


I'm On My Way, I Don't Know Where I'm Going

by afterthefair



Category: Bandom, Panic! at the Disco
Genre: 5 Things, Childhood Friends, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-12-31
Updated: 2008-12-31
Packaged: 2017-11-19 23:50:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/578980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afterthefair/pseuds/afterthefair
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five times Ryan was a step ahead of Spencer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm On My Way, I Don't Know Where I'm Going

**Author's Note:**

> For rossetti in the popoffacork exchange. Thanks to insipid_paragon for talking it through with me and frausorge for the last minute readthrough. Title from Paul Simon.

I.  
Spencer's giving Crystal and Jackie about three more seconds before he hogties them in their room until his parents get back. Seriously, they're twelve years old, they can sit still for a couple of hours. Or at least manage to let him have the family room when Ryan is here.

"Get the fuck out!" he shouts, and Crystal stops to smack him on the back of the head as she runs by. He turns to complain about it to Ryan, and finds him looking just as dazed as when he'd shown up at Spencer's door half an hour before and plopped himself down on the couch. "What?"

"I had sex with Tarah." He says it with a kind of happy disbelief, and Spencer feels his stomach clenching.

Ryan's looking at him expectantly, like he's waiting for Spencer to get the punchline, and it occurs to Spencer that he should probably be a lot more excited about this than he is. 

He settles on laughing and rolling his eyes. "Dude, I don't know why you're proud. It took you like a year to tap that." 

Ryan snorts. "Did you actually just say 'tap that'?"

Spencer blushes and looks down. "Was it, like, good?" He's not even sure if that's something he's supposed to ask. Or if he's supposed to ask anything. Maybe they're just supposed to do a celebratory fist pound and order some pizza.

"It was sex. Of course it was good." Ryan's tone goes very earnest. "One day, if you're very lucky, maybe you'll find that out, too." 

"Shut the fuck up." Spencer half-assedly punches him on the arm. "So what, did you want to hug and cry about it? Because I'm really not that interested in what you do with your dick, dude."

Ryan tries to kidney punch him. "Don't be jealous just because someone got to it before you did." 

Jackie stops short on her way through the room and says, "eww."

 

II.  
They don't have a booking agent yet. 

They also don't have: merchandise, a solid setlist, a functional website, enough space in the van for all their equipment, and any guarantee that they'll make it back to Vegas in time for their first show.

It seemed like Crush would be handling everything at first, but the people there apparently have very important jobs that do not involve simple things like negotiating details with venues (and seriously, how are they supposed to know what to say to these people? They've never even played a show. Brendon and Brent just want to know if they'll have a rider. They've started making an Outrageous Shit Venues Should Give Us list.) It's their version of baby band bootcamp, Spencer guesses, making sure they learn to take care of themselves because important resources need to be allocated elsewhere. 

It would probably be easier to appreciate if they weren't trying to do all of this from a shitty apartment in Maryland, while writing and recording, without even their parents as backup. Spencer has a feeling that someone's going to drop the ball, and that that someone will be him.

They'd taken a vote on it one night, sitting on the bunk beds, so surrounded by studio equipment they could barely see each other. "One of us has to be in charge of it," Ryan had said. "Pete says people need to know that they're working with one person when they're dealing with us." Judging by the tone, that one person was clearly not going to be Ryan.

He'd looked at Spencer then, and so had Brendon and Brent, and Spencer said, "who wants to do it?" Brendon curled back into himself, almost hiding behind his guitar, and Brent shifted to look at a point just behind Spencer's head. 

Ryan held his gaze.

The moment stretched until Spencer thought it would snap, and he finally said, "okay, I'll do it. Fuck," and found himself fielding calls from people who probably didn't want to know he was actually seventeen. 

The venue representative he's talking to now keeps interrupting when he tries to explain his point, and he's aware again of how light his voice sounds sometimes, how easy it is to talk over him. He's kicked Brendon and Brent out so he can have quiet, some semblance of professionalism, but Ryan sits behind him on the bunk bed, writing down lyrics as quickly as he can. They still need two more songs.

Ryan scoots forward and rests his notebook against Spencer's back, still writing. His legs are gangly and awkward, hanging off the edge of the bed around Spencer's, and Spencer wants to put the phone down and stop for a minute. He just needs one minute. He leans back into Ryan.

"No, I know -- Did you talk to Bob McLynn? No, I can handle it, it's just--" and the guy cuts him off again.

Ryan puts his head down against Spencer's back. It helps.

 

III.  
Ryan goes all out when he tries something, so Spencer probably shouldn't be surprised that he's thrown himself into being really fucking high. He's also straddling the adorable/annoying line more than usual.

"Spencer. Spennncerrrr. Skin is surprisingly flat, have you ever noticed that?" 

Right now, he's leaning towards adorable. Also, Spencer thinks, the skin thing is a really good point, which probably means Spencer's pretty high himself. He thinks. This may have been a bad idea. He takes Ryan's hand so he can let him know.

"This may have been a bad idea. Ryan." Ryan seems unconcerned, which just makes Spencer more concerned. "This is a bad idea. Where's Jon? Did he go somewhere? Did he leave us here?"

He locates Jon from the laughter behind him. Brendon, too.

Ryan shakes his hand off and crawls over to straddle him, holding Spencer's face in his hands. "Stop worrying. Everything will be okay." He kisses Spencer's nose. "Also, I can't feel my face." He looks very determined as he leans in and kisses Spencer on the mouth. A few seconds later, when Spencer realizes that Ryan is kissing him, he wants to take a moment to rethink the question of whether this was a bad idea or not. There are a lot of angles to consider.

He's very shocked to feel someone pulling him away from Ryan, but when he looks up, it's only Brendon, grinning down at him. Spencer grabs on and clings. This will probably not be funny when he remembers it in the morning.

 

IV.  
Ryan tells Spencer that the album's not going to work before he tells the others. 

"It's just like, what are we even doing here? We've had years to do something new and we're doing the exact same thing, and it fucking sucks." He's holding a mug of coffee in one hand and a cigarette in the other, looking out at the mountains behind the cabin, huge peaks looming over them. Spencer's very aware of how far their voices could carry here. There are only a few yards between the chairs on their back porch and the drop off into the valley below. They're sitting on the floor of the bare wooden porch now, and Spencer feels like they're hiding.

"It's not like that. We just need some more time. Jon and I were working on something--"

"It's not going anywhere. We need to start over." He gets up from where he's been sitting and turns to go back inside, nearly tripping over an ashtray as he makes his way to the door. He stops to look back at Spencer before he opens the door, expectant. "We're going to start over."

Spencer remembers this feeling of icy dread, like getting the call about Ryan's dad, like the time his mother had surgery when he was a kid, that sense that it could all just end right now and there isn't a thing he can do about it. "I'm pretty sure you don't get to make that decision alone." He wishes he sounded more certain of that.

"Seriously? You honestly think being up here is doing any of us any good?" Ryan sits back down next to Spencer on the wooden porch and leans into him. His voice drops low enough that Spencer has to lean back to hear him, Ryan's shoulder digging into his own. "What do you think another month up here is going to do for the album? Or for us? You know I'm right, just admit it." 

And this is exactly why Ryan brought him out here first, Spencer realizes, to make sure he'd be on Ryan's side. Like he always is. The heat from Ryan's body is seeping into his side and he wonders if some physical distance would help him think.

Spencer looks down at the ground. "Promise me we'll fix it. That's all I want. If you pull the plug, then you make sure we do something better."

He can hear the smile in Ryan's voice when he says, "You really should trust my instincts by now."

 

V.  
It used to be clubs and shows and staying out until all hours of the night, but they've settled into something different recently. Spencer doesn't want to think of it as something that they need, some special "best friend time," but there are times when he and Ryan find themselves in one of their houses and maybe, possibly turn their phones off and don't tell anyone where they are. And watch TV and eat junk food. Vegas is currently aiding in this, with its decision to dump a few inches of snow on the ground and make people completely afraid to drive.

Also, there's a Sandra Lee marathon on Food Network, so this is clearly meant to be.

"I could totally make this. We usually have all this shit on the bus." Spencer pulls his arm out from under the blanket they're sharing on the couch and reaches into the bag of tortilla chips Ryan's holding. He has a good deal of respect for the simple food, elaborate drinks approach. If this band thing continues to work out, he's totally going to buy a restaurant and have that be his trademark. 

"The fact that you could make this meal out of things we can find in a truckstop is a bad sign. But I do like the tablescape." 

Spencer thinks this should probably be more ludicrous coming from a dude sitting on a couch in sweats, eating Tostitos. Of course, the pattern on the tablecloth is something either of them would wear, so maybe Ryan's point is valid. Ryan hands the bag of chips to him and disappears into the kitchen. When he comes back, Spencer is learning to make Blueberry Sangria Lemonade. Ryan hands him a soda as he sits back down and, really, there's no other word for it, cuddles up to him under the blanket. It feels like there are about six bony elbows to situate.

"I like that we're doing this more now," Ryan mumbles. He sounds like there's more to say, and Spencer knows what's coming. He has a sudden, clear memory of that day in his parents' house, talking about Tarah and feeling his stomach drop.

"What, having a freak winter storm and learning to make summer cocktails?" Spencer feels like he's stalling for time.

"Yes, that is exactly what I meant." He puts a hand on Spencer's face and turns him so that they're facing each other. Then he lets out a heavy breath and sits back.

Spencer waits. 

Ryan laughs. "I had a plan. It was great, we wouldn't even have to be stoned this time. But this is more awkward than I was expecting." He leans forward again and kisses Spencer hesitantly before pulling away.

Spencer doesn't give him time to think about it. "Really, it could be a lot more awkward," he says, before leaning in and kissing back.


End file.
